


Happily Ever After

by alyjude_sideburns



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 10:45:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyjude_sideburns/pseuds/alyjude_sideburns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Rodney have been captured (duh) and the usual snarkiness ensues - until elf ears are mentioned - then all bets are off</p><p>Originally published in 2008</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happily Ever After

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in season two after Runner, not really attached to any episode but references Hide and Seek - written originally for mscmooch

 

**Happily Ever After by Sideburns**

 

Sheppard has elf ears.

The man has hair that defies gravity and...elf ears.

Rodney spared a moment to realize it might be weird that, in their current circumstances, he should notice this. He considered it even more weird when he did what he did next, which was to say, "You have elf ears."

"Thank you, McKay. That's very helpful to me personally, but as a suggestion to aid us in our present situation? Not so much."

"Observation. It was an observation. How could it possibly have been a suggestion? Oh, I suppose it could have been _if_ you had a 'suggestion' of elf ears, but you don't. You _have_ elf ears." He stopped, said 'what the hell' and went on. "Do you have super elf powers that go with them? Because if you do, my noticing them would definitely come under the heading of a suggestion to aid us in our present situation, you know? Because really, if you do have elf-like powers, now would be a good time to manifest them. And by the way, have you noticed how often - when this happens - and--"

"It happens often...."

"...it happens often," Rodney said as if Sheppard hadn't. "That you end up with me as your fellow prisoner? What are the odds?"

"Astronomical," John said dryly while studying the cell they were currently in - a cell like so many he'd been a guest of since his arrival in the Pegasus Galaxy - meaning rock and bars. He moved away from the far wall and took up inspecting the north side as he added, "But if we're going to get official, there've been plenty of times when it was you and--"

He stopped. Turned. "Elf ears?" He fingered his right one rather self-consciously.

"What, you're going to tell me no one ever mentioned it before?"

"Like I know anyone else as rude as you?" he shot back.

"Hey, it's not like I said they were unattractive. In fact, I find it hard to believe that at least one of your many conquests didn't say something in a quiet moment following mind-blowing sex."

John cocked his head to give Rodney the kind of look that meant the person to whom the look was aimed should be seeing Hightmeyer. "When was the last time you ate?"

"You just had to remind me of food? Well, fuck you, Colonel," Rodney said crossly.

"That's better." He looked at his watch, one of the few things that hadn't been taken from them, and added thoughtfully, "Oh, look, it's just about the time where I'm supposed to say something reassuring like, 'Teyla and Ronon made it to the 'gate and should be rescuing us any minute.'"

"Yes, followed by the fact that I can then eat all I want when we get home."

"Consider it said." John went back to inspecting walls because, really, he didn't want to think about elf ears. Not that he didn't know he had...well, he preferred to think of them as Spock-like rather than, say, Legolas-like. And he refused to enter Ferengi territory because Rodney was sitting right _there_ and if he thought about Ferengi ears with Rodney so close, he'd think about erogenous zones and that would lead to... Yes. Well.

"You do have elf ears," Rodney said again, with just the right amount of petulance to tug John's lips upward. "But considering your penchant toward more Kirk-like behavior, I'll start thinking of them as...Spock ears. Can't have people laughing about our fearless leader, now can we?" He suddenly held up a hand as if stopping something - which was ridiculous because nothing was happening - and said, "Wait, not elf or Spock...and definitely not Legolas because...well, come on, you're more the Ranger type who would be king...so how 'bout Ferengi? Are your ears a real turn on? Is that how all those--"

John really shouldn't be so surprised that Rodney's thoughts so completely paralleled his - it was the norm of late, but he really didn't think now was the time to talk about what turned him on (and yes, his ears were rather... **Enough!** Back to work here, Sheppard!). "Oh, for God's sake, McKay, couldn't you go back to harping about my hair?"

"I was just saying...but maybe you'd rather we go the Spock route...."

"Oh, and Spock ears are less laughable than elf ears, not to mention Ferengi, which in case you've forgotten, are huge? And mine aren't."

"Spock's ears are more...manly, perhaps. And you're right, not Ferengi, although the idea of you having ears that could so easily be used... Where was I again? Oh, yeah, Legolas. He was a very manly elf, so we could go that route. Yes, manly and pretty - like you. Spock - not so much. Pretty, I mean."

John stopped checking the walls because being called 'pretty' was something you stopped trying to escape in order to clarify the issue, especially when it came from your best friend, who was a guy. A guy who, for a change, seemed to be on the exact same page as you.

While staring at McKay, he absently fingered one of his ears again. Yeah, okay, they were finally on the same page, but damn it, they were also prisoners and, on top of that, seemed to be reading the page at different speeds. At this rate, they'd never get to the happy ending part. Of course, he could be mostly responsible for that because he'd been refusing to get up the courage to actually _tell_ Rodney that the book they were reading together was the masculine version of a romance novel and wouldn't he like to get to the sex part too?

No, John sighed, at this rate, they'd never get to the sex, let alone at the same time, which was why his hand was getting such a workout in the late evenings. But wait...now, now they were talking about his ears, and apparently in a sexual way, and Rodney had definitely called him pretty - and while he should take offense at that - he wasn't going to in an effort to keep them both on the right page. In fact, at the moment, Rodney was looking at him in a way that kind of made John's ears tingle. Of course, he could be reading the look wrong. It could simply be his "You're a blithering idiot" look as opposed to, say, maybe, "I have a hard-on for you" look.

If he had to choose, he'd go with the 'hard-on' look, thanks to the whole ear thing and calling him pretty. And come to think of it, speed reading aside, maybe he _should_ make an issue out of being called pretty.

"Wait...pretty? _Pretty_?"

"You get hung up on the stupidest things," Rodney noted sarcastically.

"I think referring to my ears as elf ears and then calling me...pretty...those are not stupid things. I'm a Goddamn colonel in the United States Air Force and I'm...rangy, not fucking pretty and my ears are just fine, thank you very much. Now shut up and let me work on getting us out of here." Right. So much for same page and getting to the good part of the book.

"Oh, yeah, right, by tapping on the walls with your knuckles - knuckles that, by the way, I'm beginning to think should be dragging on the ground."

With great patience, John asked, "Rodney, what's above us?"

"Huh?"

John pointed upward - with his middle finger.

"Oh, very mature, _Colonel_. And you know damn well what's above...oh."

John could see the truth dawn, so went back to tapping.

"Dare I bring up the small fact that this is the Pegasus Galaxy, not some fairy tale, and just because it's a castle doesn't mean there are secret passages and...stuff."

"Stuff? How very scientific of you." John really could have used a lighter at that moment, because he'd felt a difference in the length of wall to the left of what served, he assumed, as a toilet, not that a rusty, stinky bucket was a toilet in his opinion. He ran a hand across the rough surface, only vaguely wondering why Rodney had gone suddenly quiet. Maybe he was actually stumped as to the next sarcastic retort - which would mean he'd finally one-upped him. Just then, John felt a slight indentation, knew it wasn't part of the brick, so he pushed. There was a creaking sound, dust fell, and he was looking into a dark opening. Feeling highly superior, he turned and said with a flourish, "I believe I've found the 'stuff'."

Rodney didn't respond. In fact, Rodney looked like shit, his pale face a beacon in the dark cell, his panting sounding strange, almost echo-like, shallow and unreal. John took a step forward. "McKay, you all right? Or just angry that I actually found a hidden passage?"

Rodney glanced up and, looking totally miserable, shook his head before closing his eyes and muttering, "Should have had that cereal in the Mess earlier...really should have...."

With that, he dropped back down on what passed as a cot and promptly curled in on himself, his back to John.

"Wait, are you saying you really _are_ hypoglycemic?"

"Of course not - I just made that up the same way I made up the whole citrus thing, you ass," he muttered against the wall.

Having seen Rodney react to accidentally ingesting lemon - John could say with great certainty that he was now officially worried. He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Okay, maybe now would be a good time to let me know what I can expect? Are you going to make it?"

"Damn, you're cold. So what would you say if I told you I have minutes to live?"

"Ashes spread over the ocean or land?"

"Prick."

"Seriously, Rodney - can you make it out of here? I need to know what to expect and what kind of timeline we're talking."

Rodney rolled over, wiped the sweat from his upper lip, and said, his voice too shaky for John's comfort, "It's what, two, three hours back to the 'gate?"

John nodded.

"If we can find something - anything - to eat - I should make it. If we don't - it could be tricky. You may have to leave me and go on."

"What, hypoglycemia suddenly makes you noble?" John said with a small smile.

"Ha, ha."

"Okay, the faster we head out - the sooner the 'gate. Come on."

He put his arm around Rodney, who quickly pushed it away. "I can stand, Colonel. Just...lead the way."

Shaking, but obviously resolute, Rodney got to his feet, chin raised in surprising stubbornness.

John turned back to the secret tunnel and, as he bent low to duck under the rock, said, "Just remember: no fainting. Manly passing out is okay, but no fainting."

"I swear, you just get funnier with every day you spend in Pegasus - not."

***

The trip from the bowels of the Herudian castle wasn't long, and things would have gone considerably better if only the tunnel hadn't started going up - a steady incline that even took a bit of wind out of John's sails. By the time he found the wooden door with daylight just visible through thin, close-together bars, Rodney was shaking, unsteady, and mumbling all sorts of things that made little sense - except for the continual interjecting of comments about his elf ears. John was thinking seriously about plastic surgery when he finally got the door pushed open on rusty, creaking hinges.

As he winced, thanks to the sudden sunlight, he admitted that he might be...afraid. He'd never really seen Rodney like this and, at the very least, it was disconcerting. At the most, it was heart-stopping scary. Looking at Rodney, John could only pray that they met up with the rescue team - and soon - so that Rodney could be given whatever he needed to make this go away.

Not that Rodney hadn't used several incidences to tell anyone who would listen. Like the personal shield. And he'd really passed out - although John had chalked that up to panic more than actually not eating. And in his defense, Carson hadn't appeared worried, had he? No. Except about the water thing and that was a non-issue here.

John slid his arm around Rodney's waist and said, "Okay, let's go, buddy. We'll make it in no time and have a nice hot meal before you can say puddle jumper."

Eyes closed tight against the sun, Rodney muttered, "Puddle jumper."

Smiling, John said, "Good, you're still with me."

At which point, Rodney's eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out.

***

God damn it, John thought, not for the first time. They were a few feet from the secret passage, the castle towering high behind them. He was going to have to lift Rodney and somehow drag him toward the 'gate. Only problem was, he had no idea when the Herudians would approach their empty cell and send out the troops. Troops on horseback. Troops that would catch up to them pretty damn fast.

John looked down at Rodney, whose head was cradled in the crook of his arm, and suddenly, what with the castle and talk of elves and such, he had the most ridiculous notion to play Prince to Rodney's Sleeping Geek. Hell, with someone like Rodney, a kiss could just work. He loved Rodney's crooked lips, always had....

He never finished the thought because at that moment, Rodney's eyelids fluttered a bit, opened, and he murmured almost against John's mouth, "You save us yet? I'm getting...kind of...cold...and...were you about to kiss me or give me mouth-to-mouth?"

There were so many answers to that last question that it was mind-boggling. Hell, John could ignore it altogether and go for just answering the first one, but the answer was so negative and not up to his reputation, that he decided against it. Which left him stuck with the latter - and in a brave attempt to put them on the same _place_ on the page (not to mention getting to the sex part when he saved them), he went with total honesty.

"Yes."

No one said he had to elaborate.

Rodney blinked several times, squinted, and said, "Yes, what?"

"Yes...I was about to kiss you." He shrugged. "Seemed appropriate. Castle, dungeon, the whole sleeping--"

"Don't even think it," Rodney warned, even though his voice was too weak to give the warning any real punch.

"I was going to say...'sleeping geek' thing," John said smugly.

Rodney lifted his head a bit, looked around, lowered himself back down - and then with a shaking hand, stroked John's right ear, and said, "I'm pretty sure those stupid princes always kissed...more than just to wake up some stupid blonde who either pricked her finger - and how stupid is that? Or some brunette...who ate a suspicious apple from an old crone. So go ahead and kiss me, already. I'm way smarter, you're heroic enough, and it's about...damn time. Then you can save the day."

For a guy suffering from hypoglycemia, Rodney could sure talk up a storm right after passing out. He was really amazing. And he had such long lashes...too. John leaned in closer, but apparently suffering from hunger made Rodney cranky and impatient too, because he just grabbed John's head and pulled him down, clamped his lips over John's and went to town.

John really liked the town too.

He figured it would be better later, once Rodney had some food in him, but even so, the feel of teeth, lips, stubble, even the fact that his arm was going to sleep on him, it all felt terrific. And God, they had to be the oddest couple ever....

The only reason the kiss ended was Rodney ran out of steam and, even though John was back to being worried again, he couldn't help but say, his breath exchanging with Rodney's, "It's nice to finally be on the same paragraph, isn't it?"

"Hell, yeah, but...you should...probably leave me. Go faster that way."

Since it was obvious that no one in the castle had figured out they were gone yet, John could allow himself the ability to be shocked. Rodney's words weren't the kind he typically uttered, considering his very healthy sense of self-preservation. Maybe this was a dying Rodney McKay?

No. No way. He wasn't dying, not after a kiss like that, and not now when they were finally getting to the happy ending, and certainly _not_ from hypoglycemia. Hell, Rodney would be mortified.

Trying to look as stern as possible in the face of an ever-paling Rodney, he said gruffly, "McKay, you know the rule. We don't leave anyone-"

"Oh, shut up. You guys leave...people behind all the time," Rodney said in a slightly stronger voice. "You have to...sometimes. So do it. Just remember to tell...Jeannie," he waved a weak hand in the air, "I don't know, something heroic, like I died saving a bunch of...no, she'd never believe that - she knows I don't like...kids. Okay, make it...cats. I died saving...cats. Special cats. Powerful cats. Yeah," he added, clearly warming up to the subject. "Powerful, Wraith-killing cats."

"Rodney, wouldn't it be easier to just get up and go with me? You know I don't lie well."

"Bullshit. Total bullshit."

"Rodney, you're not going to die, I'm not going to leave you, we're both going to make it home, empty-handed as usual, with yet another planet to scrub from the data base, and you'll go back to being a jerk and making fun of my hair, but at night, we'll do wonderful things to each other, and yes, you can play with my ears all you want, but I'm telling you right now, if you don't get up and help me, help you - I swear to GOD that I'll tell everyone you died not only a coward, but from an...insect bite. A harmless insect bite, but you got so riled up, you blew your brain up. I'll also tell Teyla about that time you had that lengthy discussion about her ass and, as a result, she won't sing at your funeral. She'll go, but she won't sing."

"Now I'm scared," Rodney said - clearly not. "Look, it takes time...to die this way, so you have plenty to spare if you leave now, get to Atlantis, grab me some good food and come back, preferably in a puddle...jumper. But if we try this together...."

He let his voice trail off, seeing that the truth had sunk in. He sighed in relief.

For John's part, yeah, he got it. He hated it, but he got it. Rodney _did_ have a better chance if John went alone. He could run, cut the travel time by half. Hell, he could be back here in a jumper before the two of them together would ever make it to the 'gate.

Letting his arms tighten a bit around Rodney, he said, "All right, this is what's going to happen. I'm going to get you behind this tree and use some brush to cover you. You've got to stay still and quiet, though. Got that?"

"Glad to see...you still have a few...brain cells left, Colonel. But could we...dispense with the bushes for cover? Bugs. Spiders. Or at least...the Pegasus version thereof."

"Rodney, I'm going to camouflage you, spiders and all, so shut up."

"The Air Force needs...to work...on their bedside...you know."

"I'll jot that down for discussion the next time I'm called to Earth." With that, John got to his feet and went to work on the brush. He made a nice 'bed', used his jacket to cushion it and, with some effort, got Rodney settled down. Hand over Rodney's heart (which was as hokey as he intended to get) John said, "Okay, I'll be back as quickly as I can. Just - don't do your usual and start talking to yourself, all right?"

"I do _not_ talk to myself," Rodney mumbled.

"You talk to yourself while you're eating, working, hell, even in your sleep, for Christ's sake."

Rodney waved a trembling hand. "Go. Leave. Be gone, O Great Savior."

John couldn't help it. In spite of his fear - which had turned into a fierce lake of stomach acid - he chuckled. "Right. I'm gone." He took the brush he'd pulled out and did his best to create the camouflage effect. Satisfied, he said, "I'll be back and so help me, McKay, if you're dead - I'll kill you."

"Don't worry," comes the muffled response. "Can't get in the way...of Heroic Sheppard - Savior of the McKay Ass."

"Damn right. I have plans for that ass...."

With that, John took off on the run, running hard, taking long strides, his heart pumping out the word, "Rodney" over and over and over again.

***

When he couldn't hear him anymore, Rodney turned over on his side, not really caring that most of the bushes had fallen from his body. They were hot and scratchy anyway.

Touching his lips with his finger, he couldn't help the smile. Even under these circumstances, he could acknowledge that John was one hell of a kisser. He also found himself grateful that John actually left him, even though he should be angry. Guess that's love - or hypoglycemia.

He does feel lonely, though. And considering he might die - okay, he really doesn't think he will, but he _could_ or he could get recaptured, or eaten alive by some creature John, Ronon and Teyla will hunt down, cut open, and then cringe when pieces of him fall out.

Humph. That would serve them all right.

Now if only he could remember why....

***

John stopped. This wasn't...he couldn't....

Damn.

He turned around.

***

"Rodney, I've failed as your commanding officer," John said as he slumped down against the tree ten minutes later.

Rodney opened his eyes and felt exactly the same as when he'd closed them, which must mean that hadn't been all that long ago. He stares at John. "You're not... my commanding officer."

"Sure as hell am. You just choose to ignore it."

"Well, ye-ah. Because...you're not."

John drops a hand on Rodney's shoulder. "I couldn't...you know. I could have, if it had been anyone else, but it's not, so I couldn't."

Rodney shook his head. "God, I'm sicker than I thought."

"No, seriously. This isn't good. I should be able to leave you - it's not just the right thing, it's the only thing that makes sense - but I couldn't."

"You're hot for my bod," Rodney murmurs with a sloppy grin.

"We've established that, but that's all the more reason for wanting to make it to the 'gate, to be able to leave you here, but I can't."

"So, like, this is a kind of 'whatever happens to one, happens to the other' thing, now?" Rodney asked.

"Yep."

"You still have elf ears."

"You have crooked lips and I'll still have hair when we're sixty-five."

"When _you're_ sixty-five. I'm younger than you. Ha-ha."

John answered that by pulling Rodney back into his arms. They were both silent for several minutes but then Rodney gave out with a very small moan - at least small by Rodney McKay Moan standards and John had to ask, "How are you feeling?"

"Detached."

"That sounds...bad?"

"Not good."

John looked up at the sky and had a terrible thought: what if Teyla and Ronon didn't actually make it in time? And just as he thought it, he sensed a shift in the air and reached for something he didn't have: his P-90. Cursing a blue streak, he cocked his head...and sighed with relief.

Rescue.

He was feeling a jumper - a feeling that was confirmed a moment later when Ronon magically appeared several yards away. John glanced down at Rodney, whose eyes were closed now. He felt his pulse, sent up a prayer of thanks, and then waved Ronon over to them.

***

"So he's going to be okay?"

"He is," Carson said, his expression comforting while, at the same time, pinched. A not-so-subtle clue that Carson had been, albeit briefly, worried.

John decided now would be a good time to find out more about Rodney and his 'condition'. He took Carson's elbow and led him out of earshot.

"Why wasn't I filled in on the seriousness of Rodney's condition? On how bad things could get?" he asked. "I never thought all his grousing about food was...well, real. That he could actually... Look, he was a mess out there and I felt... Hell, I'm the team leader, Carson. I should be told about _any_ condition that could--"

Carson raised a hand to stem John's tirade, one that had been gearing up to be worthy of Rodney himself. John, realizing that his voice had been rising, clamped his mouth shut - and waited.

Looking a bit sheepish, Carson shook his head and said, "No excuse, none. Naturally his records indicate the Reactive Hypoglycemia, along with his citrus allergy and various others, but given Rodney's penchant for protecting himself - and his tendency toward...well, exaggeration--"

This time it was John who raised a hand. "Okay, I get it. But now we know he _wasn't_ exaggerating so where does that leave us? And what the hell is reactive hypoglycemia?"

Carson actually smiled. "Basically, if the individual doesn't eat approximately every few hours, reaction sets in. That's why--"

"He's always eating?"

Carson nodded. "I see now that I may have...we all may have...done him an injustice. It's obvious that his care, his almost obsessive behavior is understandable. He's a man who's defined by his intelligence and yet suffers from a condition that can rob him of the very thing that defines him."

Feeling that he understood Rodney better than ever, John gave a small smile and tugged at his right ear even as Carson added, "He'll sleep through to tomorrow morning, at which time I'll probably release him. And no, Colonel, you can't stay. You need food, a shower and sleep." He made a shooing motion with his hand. "Off with you now."

Putting a possessive hand on Rodney's, and hoping his message was clear, he said, "I'll shower and change, but then I'm bringing my dinner back here, and this is where I'll stay until he's released, Carson."

Carson stared at him for a few moments before smiling. "Aye, Colonel."

Watching Carson walk away, he could almost hear the words, "The End" playing in the background. He grinned.

The End


End file.
